The Gazebo Chronicles
by gothicbutterfly95
Summary: Twenty years. Three women. One gazebo. How the gazebo affected each of the relationships in Georg von Trapp's life.
1. Agathe: Part I

March 1922

"What's her name?" Georg asked. He bent down in front of his wife and stroked the soft fuzz of hair on his daughter's head.

His daughter.

He had received the telegram a few days ago. He had loved her since he read the words from Agathe about a beautiful baby girl waiting to meet him when he arrived home. He loved her in a way he had never and would never love anyone else. But until this moment he had never laid eyes on her.

Now he couldn't _keep_ his eyes off her. She was so wonderful. Though his experience with infants was nonexistent, Georg knew, without a shadow of a doubt that this was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen.

And his darling Agathe had never looked lovelier. Even the sight of her on the day they were married could not compete with the afterglow of pregnancy; of bringing their daughter into the world.

The daughter whose name he still did not know.

"Elisabeth," Agathe replied. "Elisabeth Agathe."

Georg smiled broadly and moved to sit beside her on the bench. The glow of twilight filtered through the glass windows of the iron gazebo. It made everything seem otherworldly, almost heavenly.

The perfect setting for a moment like this.

"I thought we could call her Liesl," she continued, passing the infant to him.

"Liesl," Georg mused, taking his daughter in his arms for the first time. Names had so much power, and the simple act of hearing his daughter's name on his wife's lips made it real in a way it had not been before. Georg had known he'd had a daughter for a few days now, and had loved her for just as long. But hearing her name, even more so than seeing her for the first time, made her real in a completely new way.

"It's perfect," he affirmed. "She's perfect."

Still cradling Liesl, he raised his head and stared in awe at his wife and was suddenly transported back, to another place, another time, another gazebo.

* * *

November 1917

 _"_ _Georg, what are we doing here?" Agathe asked, looking over toward the gazebo with a puzzled expression on her face._

 _Georg couldn't say anything. He tried unsuccessfully to hide his nerves as he stumbled inside beside her. But it was useless. His fingers were wiggling so much they were almost convulsing. He doubted he would be able to properly hold the ring that had been burning a hole in his pocket all day._

 _"_ _Are you alright?" she asked again when there was no reply. She had never seen him this nervous before._

 _He braved her brilliantly striking ice-blue gaze. He would never forget the first time he saw those eyes._

 _In 1910, after five years in the Navy, Georg had been given command of the U-6 submarine. At the launch, John Whitehead, the British Ambassador to Croatia and, moreover, son of the inventor of the torpedo, had congratulated Georg on his achievement and thanked him for his service to his country._

 _But the moment that Georg never forgot from that day was seeing Whitehead's wife, holding the hand of a young girl, who had seemed interested; if slightly shy about being there. What he remembered most was her eyes. She had the most piercing blue eyes Georg had ever seen._

 _The conversation with the ambassador had continued, and from there, Georg had grown very close to the family. With his standing in the Navy, and the Whitehead's connection to Austria, John had seen Georg almost as a surrogate son._

 _Shortly before the war broke out Georg had visited the Whitehead's once more. He'd been somewhat surprised to discover an attraction towards their eldest daughter, and even more surprised to discover that she was in fact none other than the shy adolescent girl on the dock when his submarine had been launched._

 _From then on Georg had been smitten._

 _She was what kept him going through the long months at sea, what sustained him during the horrors of war. Whenever he wasn't on duty he was hopping back and forth, from England to Croatia, wherever she was at the time, in order to see her._

 _Now here they were. The softly falling snow and icy air made Georg acutely aware about why he was here, with her, alone. The last time he'd seen her, over six months ago, he knew he wanted to marry her. While there had been no problems when Georg had asked Agathe's father for her hand, there were so many other obstacles._

 _At nineteen, Agathe was old enough to be married, and yet still so young. And while their age gap wasn't huge, Georg had never quite been able to shake off the sense of guilt he felt. The first time he'd seen her he had been nineteen, while she had been only twelve. Though he hadn't seen her again until she was sixteen; a fairly respectable age for courting, he still felt as though he wasn't doing right by her._

 _She was English. She had spent half her life in Croatia and the other half in England, but had never travelled beyond that. Though she spoke German almost fluently, if they married, she would move a whole world away from what she had known all her life._

 _Her grandfather had invented the torpedo. Despite his friendship with her family, as a naval commander it was ironic; comical even that he should fall in love with her. Georg honestly wasn't sure if Robert Whitehead's connection to his life helped or hindered his relationship with his granddaughter._

 _But, to Georg at least, none of those were as big as the obvious issue._

 _The world was at war. He'd sunk his last vessel less than a month earlier. Nobody could really be sure how long it would continue, and as such, Georg didn't know how long he would have to serve. If he had to return to war, there was no guarantee of a return. He didn't want to break Agathe's heart._

 _"_ _Georg?" Agathe repeated._

 _"_ _Ye-yes?" he stammered. As he came back to the present and looked at her face, he forgot everything except how much he loved her._

 _He had to push back the nerves; do what he needed to do, come hell or high water. He didn't want to break her heart, but he didn't want to lose her either._

 _He'd_ _never felt this way before_ _. Ever since he met Agathe, things had been different. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, their_ _arms around each other and their children by their side._

 _He desperately hoped she felt the same way._

 _Lest he falter due to nerves, in one fast, fluid motion, Georg dropped to one knee and pulled a velvet box from his coat pocket. Agathe's eyes widened, and as he looked at the woman he loved, Georg finally found his voice._

 _"_ _Agathe," he said, flipping the box open to reveal an exquisite gold ring with three diamonds. "My darling, will you marry me?"_

 _"_ _Yes, oh yes," Agathe gasped. "Oh Georg..."_

 _Georg slid the ring onto Agathe's finger before standing up and drawing his fiancée into his arms for a kiss._

 _His fiancée._

 _They collapsed onto the closest bench, his lips still pressed softly against hers. In some far corner of his mind, Georg knew this was the last proper moment they would have together in_ _a long, long time_ _._

 _But the rest of his brain could barely think. Nothing could compete with the sheer elation he felt now. Falling in love could be dangerous, especially for him. But in a world at war, it had proved just what Georg needed._

 _This was the happiest day of his life._

* * *

March 1922

"Georg?" Agathe asked, her voice breaking him from his reverie.

He gave her a small, apologetic smile. "Yes?"

"You're far away," Agathe smiled back and continued. "Where are you?"

"Just thinking," he answered vaguely. He looked back at Liesl, but soon enough that only made him want to look at his wife again.

Every day since the one he'd just been reliving had been the happiest day of his life.

He hadn't been surprised to find her waiting for him in the gazebo. It was their special place. The gazebo at Agathe's home back in England had always been one of her favourite places. He had acquired this one to make her feel more at ease about moving to Austria after the wedding.

Though he needn't have worried about making his bride more comfortable, this gazebo had earned a place in both of their hearts all on its own. Memories had been made within these six walls that Georg would treasure for the rest of his life. In later years he would be certain that at least one of his children had been conceived inside.

"What about?"she queried.

"This," Georg ran his hand over her engagement ring by way of an answer.

As Agathe smiled back, he reached out an arm and drew her even closer, transferring their daughter back over to her.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured.

She smiled back coyly.

He had never met anyone so lovely in all his life. Little Liesl had her mother's eyes. It was actually uncanny how similar her face was to that of the baby in her arms some sixteen years down the line. And the honey coloured hair that their next daughter would inherit would always make him think she looked like both Liesl and Louisa equally.

She was just as beautiful inside as well. Despite his rakish youth, Georg von Trapp had always had a moral compass. It may have been love at first sight when they met, but Georg liked to believe he would never have married a woman with whom he didn't agree with on what he believed to be important.

Agathe was a socialite through and through. She loved planning, hosting and attending parties. She loved getting dressed up to the nines, looking and feeling glamorous and dancing all night.

But what was important to her, really important, were not those things. The pretty dresses and parties meant nothing compared to how much she loved her homeland, or homelands. England and Croatia had always held a special place in her heart, and now Austria had joined them. She loved her family deeply, and of course, she loved her husband. She had always wanted children, and had never been happier than on the day she received the news that she was with child.

Seeing her looking at little Liesl, Georg knew that his wife would do anything for their daughter, and any other subsequent children in a heartbeat. And looking down at the scene in front of him, he hoped that Liesl, and any other children that might come along, would make memories of their own in this gazebo.

And he hoped for many, many more memorable moments of his own.

* * *

 **This story has been a long time coming, but I'm so happy to finally get it started and up. Obviously I have taken creative license with several historical dates and details, but I hope that I have succeeded in at least grounding it in reality. Thank you to the wonderful members of the TSOM Fanfiction Proboards and Facebook group for all their input for all my writing.**


	2. Agathe: Part II

September 1933

As soon as he heard the door open, Georg snapped to attention and rushed forward.

"Doctor" he said desperately, "How is she?"

Dr. Loewe looked up at Georg, his expression grim."I'm going to be blunt with you Captain,"he began.

Instinctively, Georg could already tell that the news would not be good. But he couldn't process it. Everything he did, everything he had been doing since Agathe had first become sick, felt disconnected. His brain knew his wife was on her deathbed, but his mind couldn't believe it was true.

"She will be very lucky if she makes it another twenty four hours," he continued solemnly. "And even if she does, it won't change anything."

"You can't do anything?"Georg asked anxiously.

The physician shook his head sadly. "She is too weak. The only thing left to do is make her as comfortable as possible."

"Mhm-hmm," Georg mused absently, his mind wandering, to how to make his wife feel better.

"I would also suggest you say your goodbyes soon."

Georg's head snapped up. His face stony, he gave the doctor a curt nod and led him toward the door without a word.

He refused to believe there was nothing else that could be done. Dr. Loewe had been the family's physician since he first married Agathe over a decade ago. He had seen them through everything, from the simplest things, like Brigitta's head cold that lasted all of twenty four hours to the time last year when Friedrich broke his arm and knocked out his teeth. Georg had found he could help with anything and, considering he had attended to his two eldest daughters when they caught the virus, failed to see how this time differed from any other.

Liesl had been the first to catch it. The sore throat both he and Agathe had originally dismissed as a simple illness had prefaced the high fever and rash signature to scarlet fever, proving to be much more serious than first anticipated.

Agathe had insisted on caring for her; the ramifications not even entering her head. Everything had seemed to be fine, until Louisa had contracted it too. Like before, Agathe was determined to care for her daughter herself.

But two cases of the virus in the household in such a short span of time, right after giving birth to her seventh child was too much for Agathe. Though she had been fine in the very beginning, before Louisa had recovered, her mother had begun showing symptoms.

After seeing Dr. Loewe out, Georg returned to the master suite. Agathe was lying in bed; and even the mound of pillows that weren't quite succeeding in propping her up couldn't negate the fact that she was sick, and his anger was replaced by the dread that had been his constant companion for the past month.

"Georg," she said. "I want to see the children."

The children hadn't seen their mother since she had contracted the fever. No contact was made unless it was absolutely necessary. Neither she nor Georg had wanted to risk anyone else catching the virus.

For almost three weeks she had done nothing but lie in bed all day. In the beginning she had managed to make it downstairs for meals and would sit in the parlour or music room with the rest of the family after dinner, but very quickly she had lost the strength to do even that. Frau Schmidt and the maids had been attending to her constantly and Dr. Loewe had been on constant call. Meals had been brought up to the master suite, while Georg moved into the guest wing to avoid him getting ill; though he still spent all day by her side.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded. "One last time."

Even as she said it straight to his face, Georg still couldn't fully comprehend that his wife was dying. But, if she was asking to see the children, he would not refuse her.

* * *

He brought them in one by one, youngest to oldest.

The little ones sat on the bed uncomprehending as their mother held them for the final time, pressed rough kisses to the cheeks and whispered farewells that, at such young ages, they would never remember.

Brigitta was sincere, but she treated the moment as if her mother was going away for a weekend; all in an attempt to mask the fact that she knew she would never see her again. Kurt's normally permanent grin had vanished and his face, pale as Agathe's was red showed that he was so terrified that trying to hide it had never even crossed his mind.

The only word to leave Louisa's lips was 'goodbye', but her face, forlorn and flushed with the remnants of the scarlet fever rash, said more than her hoarse voice ever could. Friedrich held his composure, trying to be strong, but the soft sobs heard after he left the room told Georg that his eldest son wasn't invulnerable.

He had waited by the door the whole time. This wasn't his place; the children didn't need him now. Not like they needed their mother. Not like their mother needed them. And so he had stayed put, shuffling the children in and out in a rotating procession of goodbyes.

Finally it was Liesl's turn.

"Mama," she sobbed as she stood by the bed, clutching her mother's feverish hand. Her eyes were red from crying so much and like Louisa, she bore telltale signs of the illness she had contracted and that her mother was now dying from.

"Liesl," Agathe rasped. "I love you so very much. Never, ever forget that."

The eleven year old nodded mutely.

"I won't forget," she finally said in a barely audible voice. "I love you too Mama."

Agathe raised a hand and brushed Liesl's dark hair back from her face.

"My beautiful girl..."

Liesl started to sob again.

"That's enough," Georg announced shortly, taking his daughter by the shoulders and leading her towards the door. "Your mother needs to rest."

Tears streaming down her face, she nodded.

"Off to bed now, Elisabeth."

The sting in her eyes; an identical blue to her mother's, did not go unnoticed by Georg,even in this moment, when his world was crumbling right in front of him.

It would be over three years before he called her Liesl again.

* * *

He sat beside her on the bed.

"Georg," she panted. Every word she said, everything she did was laborious, and it made Georg's heart break.

"Yes, my love?" he whispered.

"Take me down to the gazebo."

"No!" he declined without a second thought. "You'll die."

"I'm already dying," she said, as simply and easily as if she were giving him the time of day. "I know you talked to the doctor. Georg, this is the end. Five minutes will not make any difference. Please?"

"Alright," he conceded. Like before, when she had asked to see the children, he couldn't say no. He pulled back the bedclothes and slowly helped her rise to her feet. He held her tightly and, walking as one, they made their way to the door.

It took them ten minutes to get down to the gazebo. As soon as Georg sat down on the bench, Agathe, weak with exhaustion, lay down across his lap.

Georg looked down at his wife.

Her cheeks were flaming; both in colour and temperature, and her whole body bore the rash distinctive to the virus. Her lips were chapped and dry and her tongue was parched and had taken on a 'strawberry' appearance. Her hair, usually so soft and thick, now lay limp around her shoulders, and her eyes had lost their life.

Those blue eyes; the first thing he noticed when he met her and the one feature he remembered above all else. When he had proposed to her they had been sparkling. Now they were dull and drained of energy. Just like her.

He had served for over ten years in his country's naval forces. The things he had seen during his time at sea were unimaginable.

But this was far, far worse than anything he had seen there.

This was not how he wanted to remember her. He had known her for over twenty years; had been joined with her in marriage for fifteen of them. All that time had resulted in numerous memories. But Georg had a feeling that this would be the strongest. He would not remember her as his young bride, with thick, honey coloured hair and eyes that were so blue it was freaky. He would remember her like this; weak, sick, dying.

As he looked at her he finally saw it. She was right. Dr. Loewe was right. They were right and he was wrong. This was the end.

His darling Agathe was dying.

"Georg, promise me something," she rasped.

Georg couldn't trust his voice. Instead he gazed deep into her eyes and gave the smallest of nods.

"You need to marry again." Despite the difficulty she had getting the words out, her tone was insistent.

Georg felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, the first in many years. "No, no," he pleaded.

"Yes," she was adamant. "The children need a mother. And you; you need somebody to love."

"Agathe please," he was the one having trouble speaking now, "don't make me do this."

"I don't want you to spend the rest of your life alone."

Alone. That one simple word was so loaded, so powerful, describing one of the worst forms of pain ever. A pain that Georg knew he had never really experienced.

His decade of service meant he had spent countless hours out on the ocean, far away from home. He had been stuck in little more than a tin can, with nobody but his men for company; which, when so focused on the task at hand, wasn't saying much.

But, not once in all his years in the Navy, had he ever felt completely alone. Because he had Agathe. As long as she was in his life, Georg knew he would never be truly alone.

He couldn't imagine being anything _but_ alone without her.

"I love you," he said, not caring how lame, how pointless the words sounded.

"I know," she replied croakily, her voice growing weaker with every word. "I love you too. But you're going to have to go on without me. I know you don't want to. Believe me, I don't want that either, but I also don't want you to spend the rest of your life alone."

"But-" he began, but she interrupted him.

"She's out there somewhere Georg, I know she is."

Another woman; Georg couldn't even try to comprehend it. Carrying on after Agathe was gone was one thing, but loving someone else? How could she ask that of him? His heart had always belonged to her and her alone.

"Promise me."

Like every time before, he was unable to refuse her, and could only nod in affirmation.

She nodded back and closed her eyes, satisfied.

* * *

He carried her back up to the house and lay by her side on the bed until she drew her last breath just after midnight. He cried like he had never cried before as he held her lifeless body in his arms. By her funeral the next week, his tears were all gone. He hid them from the children; he hid them from the world.

And he wouldn't return to the gazebo for almost five years.

* * *

 **I hope that wasn't too hard to read, even if we all knew it was coming. Once again, I hope there is an element of truth, despite fiddling with dates/events etc. There is still plenty more of this story to come and I hope you all continue to enjoy.  
**


	3. Elsa: Part I

June 1938

Georg was thankful that the weather was good today; the day of his return.

He was glad to return to Salzburg after almost three weeks away. He had never felt sad about returning to the villa. Uncomfortable, certainly; there was no shortage of painful reminders, shadows of the glory and happiness his life had once held here. Annoyed, absolutely; with each prank his children pulled that chased off yet another governess he grew angrier and more desperate. Lost, definitely; he hadn't been sure who he was for some time now, after losing the sea to the war and his wife to scarlet fever.

But never sad.

It was still his home. It had been his home for over two decades, and even the pain of the last few years couldn't change that. The lake was still beautiful and peaceful, and he'd always thought of the mountains as his friends, watching over him and reminding him of the country he loved so much.

Vienna, in comparison, was light and fun and easy, and he enjoyed it immensely. He didn't have to think when he was there. He could get lost in the world of glittering soirees and sparkling champagne and forget.

Forget that Louisa had once again climbed up the trellis with a toad in each hand to frighten off the latest governess. Forget that Marta and Gretl were growing up and how guilty he should feel about missing that. Forget how lonely the house felt and how cold the bed seemed.

Sometimes he could almost forget how much his wife's death had affected him.

It had been a haven for him, a place to escape from all the madness and pain at home. And in the company of Baroness Elsa Schraeder, it almost made his life seem worthwhile.

* * *

Georg and Elsa walked through the grounds together. Max had disappeared, no doubt plying the staff for food or raiding the wine cellar, but for once Georg didn't mind at all. It was nice to be all alone with Elsa.

"This really is exciting for me Georg" she announced as she stood at the gate that looked out over the lake. "Being here with you"

"Oh ho ho ho," Georg teased. "Trees, lakes mountains; when you've seen one, you've seen them all."

"That is not what I mean and you know it" she replied, playfully annoyed.

He did indeed. Of course she wasn't talking about their surroundings. Though he doubted anybody could come to the country and not feel some semblance of peace, to Elsa the birds and the flowers and other natural elements were little more than aesthetic touches.

"Ah you mean me," he played along. "I'm exciting."

"Is that so impossible?" she inquired light-heartedly.

"No just highly improbable."

She chuckled and they continued teasing each other as he led her away from the gate and they strolled, arm in arm, by the water's edge.

"Oh I do like it here Georg," she sighed when they paused for a moment. "It's so lovely and peaceful."

Georg relaxed at her words. He had not realised until then just how much he had wanted to hear her thoughts. Excitement was one thing, but if Elsa really enjoyed being in Salzburg, then things were beginning to look up.

He had been thinking very seriously for quite some time about remarrying. His children were growing up; in a year or two Liesl would be old enough to make her debut into society. He hadn't the faintest idea where to begin with that, and as much as he trusted Frau Schmidt, he didn't want to burden the housekeeper with any additional tasks, and the governesses never lasted long enough for them to be a possibility.

Though, truth be told, his children needed more than a governess. They needed a mother.

Elsa was the ideal candidate, for both him and the children. She was glamorous and stylish, the perfect picture of society elegance. She had lost her husband, famed businessman Heinrich Schraeder a year or two before Agathe had died; so like him, she wasn't looking for love. Georg had enjoyed her company ever since they first met, and now, after almost a year of courting, he had finally gotten her to come to Salzburg.

"How can you leave it as often as you do?"

There it was. It was such a simple question, and yet such a complicated one **.** But he couldn't give her the answer to either. He had never been the type of man who talked about his feelings, even when Agathe had been alive; and he was sure Elsa knew most of it anyway.

"Oh, pretending to be madly active I suppose," he replied off-handedly. "Activity suggests a life filled with purpose."

"Could it be running away from memories?" she asked gently.

He nodded at her without a second thought. Yes, that was exactly what he was doing but somehow he didn't mind her knowing. He hadn't exactly been quiet about it. It wasn't uncommon knowledge that losing his wife, right on the heels of losing his command and Austria losing her coastline, had destroyed him. He couldn't bear the pain of everything that had been left behind; so he had done everything in his power to distance himself from any remnants of his former life; all of which seemed to be found here.

"Or perhaps just searching for a reason to stay," he added, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Oh I hope that's why you've been coming to Vienna so often," she said, as if she were talking to herself; though she knew perfectly well Georg could hear every word.

"Or were there other distractions there?" she added coquettishly.

"Oh I'd hardly call you a mere distraction darling," he replied, giving her a playful nudge.

"Well, what would you call me, Georg?"

Her voice had suddenly turned serious. Georg hoped it meant she took their relationship as seriously as he did. He knew the answer he gave her would be very important, no matter what it was.

"Hmm. Lovely," he declared with a small flick of the riding crop he was carrying. "Charming, witty, graceful, the perfect hostess, and uh, you're going to hate me for this, in a way, my saviour."

"Oh, how unromantic," Elsa sounded mildly offended, but Georg knew she wasn't really upset.

"Well I would be an ungrateful wretch if I didn't tell you at least once that it was you who brought some meaning back into my life."

Georg wasn't entirely sure how exactly his life had changed after he met Elsa. He just knew something had; that after Max had introduced them, everything hadn't been as hard as it had been before. The main thing he knew was that Elsa had changed something, somehow; and he would never be able thank her enough for what she had done.

He saw the briefest of smiles cross her face before she began talking again, not even attempting to hide the many materialistic assets she possessed that made up the charmed lifestyle in which she thrived.

He couldn't help tease her back. It was what they had been doing all day. They'd done it for almost as long as they'd known each other. There were of course, moments where they were serious, but mostly, their time together was simple and safe.

"But take all that away and you have just wealthy, unattached little me, searching, just like you."

Georg had known it wouldn't be easy for her. She was Viennese through and through. She had been born into wealth, and her status had only increased after she married. Just as his natural habitat was the countryside and the lake, hers was the glittering salons and high-society events of Vienna.

But Georg was glad she was willing to try.

He chuckled as he led the way for the next phase of the tour. Everything seemed to be coming together at last.

* * *

Finally they arrived at the only place left; the one location Georg hadn't anticipated.

The gazebo.

This had been by far the easiest thing to push away after Agathe's death. Unlike the ballroom, which had been locked since the day she died, the gazebo had never been specifically off limits. Georg hadn't been down there in years, but it was, in its own way, a world in and of itself. Where the only way to shut out places like the ballroom was to prohibit access, secluded in a far away corner of the grounds, the gazebo was easy to ignore.

Just his luck Elsa had found it.

"Oh how lovely," she walked forward and stepped inside the structure.

Georg stayed put. Seeing someone, especially another woman, in the gazebo was unsettling for him. This had been his and Agathe's special place. With the exception of Liesl when she was a baby, he and Agathe had been the only people ever to go inside. He couldn't imagine anyone but Agathe inside the gazebo, especially when he was present. It felt wrong.

But he was too much of a gentleman to pull Elsa outside. So he stood there, uncomfortable and silent, for the few seconds it took for Elsa to look around.

"Georg, it's so..." her voice trailed off when she turned around and was facing the exit. Realisation dawned on her face as she took in her companion's expression.

"It's alright," she murmured, exiting the glass structure. "I understand."

Georg gave her a small, but sincere smile. He could see that Elsa knew she wouldn't ever see the gazebo, and that she was alright with that. It was just more proof to convince him he was doing the right thing.

He was fulfilling his promise to Agathe, and remarrying. He knew he would never love Elsa like he had loved Agathe, but their similar pasts meant they understood one another. She had been through the heartbreak of losing a spouse just as he had. Georg knew that she, better than anyone else, would understand the space he needed and that there were places not to be disturbed. At this point in his life, that was all he could ask for in a wife.

All that was left was for her to meet the children. Elsa had never been the most maternal woman; in that regard she was the antithesis of Agathe. But the children were older now; Liesl and Friedrich could keep the little ones in check. And with no telephone calls for the entire time he'd been in Vienna, the governess was obviously succeeding in something. If he was lucky, his children's newfound attitude would continue beyond the summer.

It would no doubt take time, but eventually, they were all going to be very happy. Yes, all that was left was to introduce Elsa to his children.

He just needed to find them.

* * *

 **Yay, I'm back! I added a bit of time story-wise before they catch up with Max on the terrace, and I drew on the musical version for elements of Elsa past (I watched ITV's Live version last week, so it's been in my head a bit). It's not my best writing; it's hard when your characters aren't motivated, and I think we all know Georg isn't in the best space right now, but I hope you enjoyed.**


	4. Elsa: Part II

July 1938

He had walked out onto the balcony on a whim; with no clear intention other than to get away from the madness inside. But as soon as he saw her, he couldn't look away.

Her appearance now was just as sudden as her disappearance the week before. She had left the dining room as soon as dinner had finished. Georg could tell she had been in a hurry to leave, even though her steps had been slow and languid.

And now she was here.

Subconsciously he leaned his arms on the balustrade; his eyes drawn to her like a magnet.

She seemed so sad. He didn't think he had ever seen her sad -truly sad- before. When she'd rushed inside the house upon her return, he'd seen tears in her eyes. At dinner she'd been quiet and subdued, even to the children, answering their many questions with nods or simple one-word answers.

She was silent now. That was probably the biggest thing. Maria was never silent. From the very first day when she'd entered his life, in the ugliest dress known to mankind, the sound of music had denoted her presence; she was always singing softly to herself or humming a tune she had made up.

Not this time.

By now she had reached the gate. She just stood there; her arms lazily gripping the metal. She wasn't moving. Georg had never seen her this still before.

To Georg, she was so beautiful, even in her current melancholy state. How long had he thought she was beautiful? For as long as he'd been in love with her. But how long was that?

'Long enough to realise you shouldn't have proposed to someone else,' he mentally chided himself.

He was thankful he was alone now. He needed that, particularly to be away from Elsa and Max, who were occupied in the parlour gossiping gaily and discussing plans for the wedding.

His wedding. To Elsa.

The thought made him sick. It had never seemed quite as wrong as it did right now. As he watched the woman he loved, right in front of him, acting so unlike herself, Georg knew he needed to rectify the biggest mistake he'd ever made.

* * *

The previous evening

" _I'm so glad you came out darling," Elsa exclaimed when Georg entered the parlour and asked if she wanted to take a walk with him. She didn't even try to disguise the genuine happiness she felt at seeing him for properly for the first time in several days._

 _Ever since the night of the party a week ago, Georg had spent most of his time cooped up in his study. He had announced that there were several pressing matters that required his attention. It wasn't a lie, but definitely an excuse on some level; and Georg was sure that everyone, save for maybe Marta and Gretl, knew that._

 _He had made sure to have some interaction with the children, but had mostly left them to their own devices. They were too miserable over the loss of their beloved governess to put up much resistance anyway._

 _His guests were another matter; he'd all but abandoned them. Max hadn't minded too much, content to eat three helpings of strudel in one sitting, search out new musical talents and generally get lost in Georg's wealthy domain._

 _Elsa was the issue. Even though she didn't say it outright, Georg knew she was annoyed at him. Ever since her husband had died, attention had been her best friend. That blasted party had been planned in her honour, for all intents and purposes to confirm that she was going to be the next Baroness von Trapp. Not only had her host been less interested in that plan since that night, but he had been avoiding her for the past week._

 _Elsa had every right to be angry at him. But he couldn't hide from her forever._

 _So, after seven days he was back at Elsa's side as they retraced the steps they had taken on their first day together at the villa. But the route was the only similarity. They hardly talked at all; gone were the witty quips and carefree banter that, with the exception of the past week, had been a constant since they'd first met._

 _Finally they stopped at the gate to the lake. Looking out over the water, Georg took a deep breath and turned to face Elsa straight on._

" _I think you're right Elsa."_

" _What about, darling?" she asked innocently. Her gaze shifted slightly and Georg knew she must be looking at the gazebo out of the corner of her eye. He couldn't bear to look in that direction now._

 _Not with what he was about to do._

" _Marriage," he stated, swallowing his pride and praying he didn't sound too disheartened. "I think we should do it."_

" _Oh," Elsa's voice was carefree as she nodded her affirmation, but her eyes sparkled with triumph. Georg could almost hear the unspoken "_ At last _."_

 _And, just like that, it was done. He was engaged. He wasn't down on one knee. There was no ring; no joy. There wasn't a kiss; there was barely even a smile._

 _Yet it left just as much of an impact on him as when he'd proposed to Agathe. For all the wrong reasons._

 _As he took Elsa's hand and led her back inside, Georg kept one thought repeating through his mind, like a mantra: that he was doing the right thing._

 _He knew if he stopped thinking that for even a moment, his heart would tell him that he was doing the exact opposite._

* * *

July 1938

"There you are."

Her voice broke Georg from his reverie. He started somewhat, but managed to give Elsa a small smile, though he remained silent. His eyes returned to following Maria.

He could feel Elsa's eyes on him; watching him as he watched Maria. She had resumed walking, and was now heading towards the gazebo. He had seen her down there often enough, when she went for a walk after putting the children to bed.

A few days before the party, she had pulled him inside the structure while they were playing a game with the children. It was the first time he'd stepped inside since the night Agathe had died, and he hadn't been upset about it. When Elsa entered the gazebo, it felt wrong; like a violation of Agathe's memory. But with Maria, he had never minded.

It was only now, looking at her over there, that he fully realised why.

"I really must speak to Cook about the Wiener schnitzel," Elsa announced casually. "It is entirely too delicious for my figure."

She was trying to get his attention, he knew. But she was talking about food! Georg could count on one hand how many conversations he'd had with Elsa about serious topics over the eighteen months he'd known her. Their relationship had always been so easy. Once upon a time that could've made him happy.

But standing here, listening to Elsa chatter away about dinner, ignoring the fact her fiancé was clearly troubled, Georg could clearly see it would never work; that it probably wouldn't have worked even if Maria wasn't in the picture.

"And it makes you much too quiet at the dinner table," she added, giving his arm a squeeze. "Or was it the wine?"

"Oh, undoubtedly the wine," he replied immediately, glancing at her for the briefest of moments before turning back to the lake. He could no longer see Maria.

Her walking out of his line of vision felt bad enough. He would not let her walk out of his life. Not again.

It was time. He had to end things with Elsa; tell her the truth. He knew she didn't deserve what he was going to do to her. He'd behaved badly, and had made a terrible mistake letting things get this far. He didn't know why Maria was as sad as she was, but he knew that no reason on Earth would stop him from loving her. And you couldn't marry someone when you were in love with someone else.

But before he could formulate how to begin, Elsa had started speaking again:

"You have no idea what kind of trouble I'm having trying to decide what to give you for a wedding present," she continued, almost to herself. "Oh, I know. I'm enough. But I do want you to have some little trifle for the occasion."

It was hard for Georg to listen to her talk about this; knowing what would happen next. A fountain pen. A French villa. He had the former, was not interested in the latter, and Elsa knew that all too well.

"Georg, how do you feel about yachts?" she asked. "A long, sleek one for the Mediterranean, or a tiny one for your bathtub?"

He couldn't help but chuckle a little at that comment. Elsa had always been delightful and he cared for her very much. He would miss their simple conversations and easy friendship.

But that friendship would never be enough for what they were pledging to each other.

He tried to interrupt her, but she continued talking, almost rambling; changing the topic to honeymoon destinations.

"But don't worry, darling, I'll-"

"Elsa," he spoke again, his more insistent tone causing her to fall silent and look at him.

"Yes, Georg?"

The smile on her face was wavering and her eyes were hesitant. Georg could tell that she knew what was coming. He didn't feel any less guilty about doing this, but it did make it slightly easier.

"It's no use," he said gently. "You and l. I've been dishonest to both of us, and utterly unfair to you. When two people talk of marriage-"

"No, don't. Don't say another word, Georg please."

Tears in her eyes, she made excuses. Why it wouldn't work for her either. Georg doubted they were all true, but he was grateful that she was pushing aside the hurt and trying to make things easier for him.

"I've enjoyed every moment we've had together and I do thank you for that," she said sincerely. "Now, if you'll forgive me I'll go inside, pack my little bags and return to Vienna where I belong."

Georg gave a small smile in thanks, but Elsa hadn't moved. She stayed still, looking out over the grounds with sad, wistful eyes.

"And somewhere out there is a young lady who, I think, will never be a nun."

Georg's eyes widened, but she just gave him a knowing smile, before stepping forward and pressing a sweet, chaste kiss to his cheek.

"Auf Wiedersehen, darling."

He watched her walk back inside before returning his gaze to the grounds; to the very place Elsa had been looking at just moments before; the place that was only visible from this angle; that had been shut out of his life for so many years.

The place he was about to return to.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed this. I'm quite pleased with how this chapter turned out, even if it wasn't so happy for Elsa. But we all know what's coming next!**


	5. Maria: Part I

July 1938

Despite it being night time, the full moon, hanging in the sky like a giant, bright pearl illuminated the surroundings for him to see well enough. He couldn't keep his eyes off the young woman seated beside him. God, she was beautiful. No, she was perfect.

And she was his.

He had found her outside less than an hour ago, heartbroken and hurting. Not ten minutes ago had he whispered his desire to marry her, to which she had accepted gladly, if somewhat apprehensively. And now she was nestled in his arms.

Georg had not been as happy as he was right now in a very long time.

"Oh Maria," he murmured, his lips still showering her face with soft, delicate kisses. "I love you. I want to know everything about you."

The kisses ceased as he pulled back slightly to gaze at her face. "I've only just now realised how little I actually do know about you."

"I could say the same thing about you Captain," she replied teasingly. "But I suppose that knowing about one another is a requirement now that we are going to be...married." The last word was little more than a whisper.

He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face so she was looking at him. "Does that make you happy, Maria?" he asked gently.

Her eyes grew wide but she nodded. "Yes," she breathed, astonished but sure. "I've never been so happy in my life."

A tender smile appeared on Georg's lips as he leaned in to kiss her again. Aware of his fiancée's inexperience he tried to be gentle, but when she moaned softly against his lips, Georg only felt more wonderful.

Maria was breathless when they broke apart. "W-What would you like to know first?" she stammered. "About me?"

"Whatever you would like to tell me," he answered softy. "How about your parents?"

Georg hoped that wouldn't be too upsetting for her. A couple of weeks after their argument, he had found her outside the gazebo, on the very bench she'd been sitting on when he found her tonight. She'd told him briefly of her childhood, but he could tell the subject was not simply distant, but also painful for her.

"I don't have many memories of them," she admitted. He could hear the tinge of sadness in her voice.

Still, she told him the few memories she did have of her parents; her father playing the guitar; the gold locket her mother had given to her for her second birthday; taking a spoonful of sugar to feel better when she was ill; a song her parents had sung her to sleep with.

She briefly mentioned her father's death; she had been too young, only two years old, to remember when her mother passed, but after that she quietened.

"Maria..." Georg prompted gently.

"Captain," she said softly, her voice reluctant. "I do want you to know everything about me. And I will tell you, I promise. But I meant what I said earlier. Despite what you think of me, by and large my childhood was not a happy time."

"What happened with your uncle?" he ventured. She hadn't wanted to do anything more than mention him that night. He would not force her if she wasn't ready now, but he was still curious.

"I've always been a problem, needing to be solved," Georg could tell she was willing herself to speak; forcing the words out. "My uncle, he would, well...let me know."

She didn't need to say any more. The meaning was clear.

The thought of someone doing that to anyone, let alone his beautiful Maria, made Georg sick to his stomach. Feeling her shake slightly, he wound his arm around her tighter and pulled her body closer to his.

"Please," she choked out. "Tonight has been nothing short of magical. I don't want to spoil it."

"Of course," he replied, pressing a kiss to her temple. "No talk of anything unhappy tonight."

She nodded and rested her head back against his shoulder.

"Nobody should have to endure that," he added absently. "You are so brave."

"I'm not as brave as you," she contested.

"You are the bravest person I've ever met," Georg replied sincerely without missing a beat.

"I ran away in the middle of the night," she said. Guilt was evident in her voice and the corners of her eyes were sparkling with tears. "I left without saying goodbye."

She cast her eyes toward the floor. Despite the mess she had returned to; a mess he was entirely responsible for, she still placed the brunt of the blame on herself.

Georg placed his hand over hers, causing her to raise her head and look at him.

"But you came back," he pointed out. "That took a lot of courage."

Things had been far from certain for her, and yet she still came back. He meanwhile had entered into a relationship, an engagement with a woman he did not love. Maria-Theresian medal be damned, he was terrified to chase after the greatest thing to happen to him in years.

"If I were truly brave I wouldn't have proposed to Elsa," he continued. "I would've sought you out at the Abbey. Or stopped you from leaving that night. No, you my dear Fraulein, are far braver than I will ever be."

Maria's eyes widened. Georg knew she wasn't used to compliments, but he was glad she wasn't trying to deflect them. After a long pause, she asked, in a voice both shy and eager, if he would tell her about his time in the Navy.

Georg was pleased Maria wanted to know about his experiences at sea, and he was only too happy to tell her about something that had been such a big part of his life for so many years.

Not only was his fiancée interested, but, to Georg's surprise, she wasn't as distressed at the horrifying nature of his tales about the Navy as much as he thought she might be. And she was particularly interested when he told her the story of his command of the U-6, and the little girl on the dock.

"...I went back a few years later that I visited them. I saw the girl with blue eyes again. The same blue as her daughter..."

Maria smiled knowingly. Georg was a little taken aback that she had particularly enjoyed that story, but was humbled that she had nothing but respect and admiration for his late wife.

"I thought we weren't talking about things that made us sad."

"It doesn't make me sad," he assured her. "For the first time in a long time, it doesn't make me sad to think about Agathe."

She was the reason it didn't hurt anymore. Maria reminded him of Agathe in so many ways; her grace and her spirit; her irrepressible passion for music and their country. Her fierce love for his children.

"Would you tell me about her?"

"Of course," answered Georg, quickly kissing her lips. He looked around the gazebo for a long moment, before returning his gaze to her.

He found it quite strange, how everything had worked out; how this turned out to be the place where everything happened. Georg now realised he didn't want to simply share Agathe with Maria; to keep her memory alive after locking it away for so long, but also this beautiful structure; that had meant just as much to his first wife as it did to his second.

"You know, this was a special place for her too..."

* * *

"Goodnight, Maria my darling," Georg murmured, grasping his fiancée's hand tightly from the other side of her bedroom door.

They had continued talking for a long time, sharing stories from their pasts, dreams for their futures, and generally enjoying each other's company. After Georg had swayed her into finishing the Laendler with him, they had left the gazebo and returned to the house to retire for the night.

Maria leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. The first kiss she had initiated. Georg was surprised at how forward she was, but that only lasted a moment. He had imagined moments like these for many weeks, and rejoiced in the fact it was now a reality; a reality that surpassed all the dreams he'd had.

"Goodnight...Georg," she whispered.

It made him lightheaded, hearing his name coming from her lips. As he watched her cross her bedroom, his face broke into a grin he was sure looked ridiculous; that stayed there long after he had reached the master suite.

* * *

Sitting on his bed in his nightclothes, Georg thought about how much had changed in such a short amount of time.

Twenty-four hours ago he had gone to bed feeling awful. His whole life had been wrong. But now everything was different. Tonight he knew he would sleep peacefully.

His feelings for Maria had been present ever since their first meeting, growing stronger every day until the night of the party, when they'd danced together out on the courtyard and he realised he was completely in love with her. He'd been shattered when he'd found her note the next morning, and had brooded for the next week, eventually resigning himself, foolishly to a life that he knew he could never live.

When she'd returned he knew he had to fix the situation with Elsa; call off their engagement. But even then, he would never have dreamed that Maria would ever love him in return. Not until tonight. And in spite of everything, he was still unsure as to what he'd done to deserve her.

Smiling wistfully, he reached into the drawer of his bedside table and drew out the photograph inside. It was one of only two photographs of his wife that hadn't been immediately locked away in the attic after she died. He kept it in a drawer to avoid Frau Schmidt or the maids stumbling upon it when the room was cleaned. The other was in his study.

Liesl's face and Louisa's hair stared back at him. Looking at it now, it felt different. Not simply because thinking about Agathe no longer caused him pain. The smile on her face seemed almost knowing.

It wasn't just wishful thinking; Georg knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had Agathe's blessing; that she approved of him marrying Maria.

" _She's out there somewhere Georg, I know she is."_

'She is indeed,' Georg smiled to himself. He had planned to marry Elsa, and it hadn't worked, because love was not something you could plan. He'd never expected to find Maria, and looking back, he hadn't planned on falling in love with Agathe either. Georg knew he was so lucky to have found not one, but two beautiful women he loved with all his heart, and who loved him in return.

Not wanting to hide it any longer, he set the photograph on the bedside table, before climbing into bed and quickly drifting off to sleep, his mind filled with images of a woman with piercing blue eyes and soft blonde hair.

A young lady who would never be a nun.

* * *

 **This chapter is an expanded version/rewrite of Chapter 2 of _Love Isn't Love 'Til You Give It Away_ ; I was never completely satisfied with that. If you're after my direct recounting of the gazebo scene, check out that story, and if you want the full conversation about her childhood that was mentioned, look at _Overlapping Worlds_. **

**I hope you all enjoyed and I'm so happy that people are reading my stories. One more chapter left!**


	6. Maria: Part II

October 1938

This time, she found him.

When he'd left her, she had been walking briskly up the staircase to talk to the children. She had tried not to show it, but he could tell she was terrified.

He had disappeared back into his study to ensure everything was in order so they could get away as easily as possible tonight. But there hadn't been much he could do. He'd been transferring money to a bank in England for some time now and there was no more to be done there. Everyone's travel documents were all in order. The only thing he could do was check the train schedules, but that only took five minutes. He'd succumbed to the scotch within a half hour.

"Georg."

He looked up at hearing her voice.

The golden skirt suit she had been wearing when they'd arrived home that matched her hair was gone. She was now wearing a high necked pink top, taupe skirt and fitted grey jacket. Given her outfit Georg knew she was packed and ready.

"Liesl's just helping the little ones finish packing," she announced solemnly, answering the question he hadn't even asked. "I told them one small bag each, and to only take the absolute necessities."

Just her voice heralded just how much she had changed; even since the night they had confessed their love, here in the gazebo. It was quieter; less impulsive and more confident.

Her actions were the same. When she returned home that day, the children had swarmed her with joyful voices and open, outstretched arms and she had responded in turn. Today she had walked out slowly and purposefully, her reserved demeanour still full of love for the children; her children.

He had never seen her this calm or collected before. When they first met he wouldn't have thought her capable of being this still, this thoughtful.

"You've been drinking," she stated.

And yet in some ways she hadn't changed. She was still as candid as ever.

Of course she could smell it. But she didn't seem as annoyed as he'd expected her to be. Certainly not as angry as she had the right to be.

"I didn't even talk to you about it."

When he had left his study to tell her about the telegram, his decision was made. Less than an hour after returning from their honeymoon; which they had had to cut short, he had announced to his wife that they had to leave the country.

"But you did," she answered.

' _I'm with you. I'll be with you every step of the way.'_

During their honeymoon, they had talked of the future. There had only been one conversation prior to their departure from Paris the day before, and it had been brief. Maria had made it crystal clear that she would support him no matter what, and Georg didn't want to dampen his or his bride's spirits, so they'd had no reason to discuss it again until the Anschluss had occurred.

"That still stands Georg," she promised. "Whatever you decide will be my decision."

But there had never been a decision and they both knew it.

As exciting as it would to have a ship under him again, Georg could not work with _them_. He would never forgive himself. He couldn't do it even if it meant that Maria and the children would be safe. There were other ways his family could be safe.

She didn't know the situation the way he did. He needed to be the strong one. He didn't want to break now. He couldn't.

But he'd never felt this vulnerable before in his life. Not even when Agathe had died. He'd felt angry and helpless, but this was different. For the first time ever, Georg felt lost.

'I don't how to do this.'

The look from his wife told him he had spoken aloud. Looking at her now, Georg realised how much he needed her. He'd never needed anything else the way he needed her right now.

"Please Maria," he pleaded softly. "Help me."

Wordlessly, she moved to sit beside him on the bench. But when she spoke, the words were the farthest thing from what Georg expected.

"Do you remember the first night of the honeymoon?" she asked him. "When I told you about running away from my uncle?"

Georg nodded slowly. Though he didn't know where Maria was going with this, he did know his wife. She wouldn't be mentioning it if it wasn't relevant.

"I knew I had to get away from him," she continued. "I _wanted_ to get away from him. And yet, leaving was more daunting than anything I'd ever done in my life."

"Why?" He couldn't understand how his strong, brave, beautiful Maria could have any reservations about escaping from her uncle. He had witnessed her pain whenever she remembered it; he had seen the scars she carried because of what that monster had done to her.

"Because, horrible as it was, life with my uncle was all I knew. Heading into the unknown was terrifying.

"We're heading into the unknown, aren't we?"

How was it she knew what he needed before he knew himself? 'It shouldn't be surprising' he thought ruefully. She had known exactly what the children needed when he could barely connect with them at all.

"It's only natural you're scared. We all are. But I trust you, and know you're doing the right thing. You wouldn't be the man I love if you didn't."

Georg knew she understood. Without saying it, she had told him she would be there by his side to weather the storm ahead.

Every day since his return from Vienna, he had been so grateful for everything she had given him. He would give her the world if he could. But the exact opposite was happening; everything they knew was being taken away.

* * *

July 1938

 _Georg was disorientated. Before he knew what had happened, Fraulein Maria had grabbed his hand and run, leaving him to be dragged along with her._

 _He was now standing the gazebo with the governess, when only a moment ago he had been engaged in a game of tag with his children._

 _Much to the chagrin of Max and Elsa, especially, Georg had spent much more time with his children, both collectively and one-on-one. He had learnt so much about each of them and was so proud of the people his children had grown up to be. He just hated that he had missed it._

 _Fraulein Maria was standing in the centre of the gazebo, with her arms clasped in front of her and a look of awe on her face._

" _It's so beautiful," she sighed. "I always wanted to come inside."_

" _Yes, it is," Georg mused absently. "I haven't been here in years."_

 _It was beautiful; just as beautiful as it had always been. The last time he'd been in the gazebo was the night Agathe had died. That night hadn't even entered his head until just then. For some time now, it hadn't hurt to think about his wife._

 _And he didn't find being back inside the gazebo painful at all._

" _Oh Captain," Fraulein Maria's voice brought Georg out of his reverie. "_ _I'm so sorry_ _. I shouldn't have-"_

" _No, no please," he interrupted. From the startled look on her face, Georg knew she felt bad about intruding on a place so personal to him. "It's alright."_

" _Are you sure, sir?"_

" _Yes," he replied. "What do you like about the gazebo, Fraulein?"_

 _He now realised he was genuinely curious about what her answer would be. Ever since the argument, they had become amiable around each other. Though their conversations mostly revolved around the children, he had discovered that they had many things in common._

" _Well" she pondered. "I think mostly because it's so secluded. It's like another whole world, and when you're here all your problems are forgotten._ _Here you can be away from it_ _all. You can be safe."_

 _Georg knew that feeling all too well. Another whole world was exactly how he had always thought of the gazebo._

" _Why have you never been inside before?"_

 _She regularly took walks in the evenings, and he'd seen her down by the gazebo often enough. She had admitted that she loved it, and looking at her now, it was clear that she was overjoyed to finally step inside._

 _That alone made him happier._

 _What was happening? He admitted the little Fraulein's effervescence_ _was infectious. But this was the gazebo. A special place he had shared with the woman he loved. He wouldn't even let Elsa in here._

 _Georg looked back at the governess. She looked absolutely breathtaking and he remembered_ _the other evening_ _, after the puppet show. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he had sung that night because she asked him to. The image of her in that blue dress as she listened to him sing had haunted his mind ever since that night._

" _I know there are_ _rooms in this house which are not to be disturbed_ _," she answered._

 _Georg had almost forgotten he had asked her a question at all. He doubted whether this woman had an impure bone in her body. She may be far too vivacious for her chosen path of a nun, but there was no doubt she possessed the integrity_ _for it._

 _Had he really sounded like that? No wonder things had been so miserable before she came._

' _Not anymore,' he vowed silently. He wouldn't allow the governess to wander into somewhere like his study without permission, but no longer would any room in the house be forbidden._

" _You may come down here any time you like Fraulein," he_ _said, gesturing around the glass structure._

 _He could tell she wanted to protest, and was relieved after a moment of silence that the only words to leave her lips were "Thank you."_

" _No Fraulein. Thank you."_

 _He would be forever grateful to her._ _She had brought_ _music back into the house_ _. She had opened his eyes and his heart, united his family and made his house a home once more._

 _The least he could do was share the gazebo with her._

* * *

October 1938

Share the gazebo with her.

Would she ever see the gazebo again? Would he? For a moment, Georg was furious. Furious at what his life now held for him. For his wife.

"You don't deserve this," he said feebly. "You gave up the only life you wanted to marry a man twice your age, and you haven't been back from the honeymoon for a day before you find out you have to leave the country, and all you ever knew."

"Austria is my homeland," she said simply. "You are my home."

Georg had never been a man who cried, but those words nearly moved him to tears. Maria had told him many times since the beginning of their engagement how much she loved him and how grateful she was that she had finally found her home, but this was different.

And she was right. There was no Austria. Not anymore. The country he'd fought for two decades ago had ceased to exist. Now his home was the woman beside him and their children.

They sat on the bench for some time; time that was lost on them. They didn't say a word. They barely looked at each other. They just sat together, their arms around each other, each drawing strength from the other's presence, the silence saying everything words could not.

Eventually, they left. She held his arm tightly as they walked in tandem up to the house. As they stood on the terrace, Georg cast one last look over the grounds.

They would never come back. But just like his home, he would take the memories he'd made in the gazebo, both the good and the bad, with him over those mountains and carry them with him until the end of his days.

* * *

 **Well I couldn't let this story end without a flashback for Maria now could I? I really enjoyed focusing entirely on Georg's perspective; I haven't really don't that before. With this chapter I really wanted to pull apart dialogue from the musical and make it work for Georg in the film, and I hope that I succeeded.**

 **I have had this story planned for a very long time, and I can't believe it's now over. Thank you to everyone who has read, favourited, review etc. And don't worry; I'm not going anywhere.**


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